


Fractions of Time

by Twitter_hikari



Category: Rusty Quill Gaming (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Found Family, Gen, Hamid is Apophis, Rome Spoilers, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-16
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 08:12:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19826077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twitter_hikari/pseuds/Twitter_hikari
Summary: Hamid is aware of the issues and concerns surrounding planar shifts and teleportation. He is very aware of the concerns regarding them happening in the vicinity of Rome.Unfortunately, when he finds himself back against the borders of Rome with no avenue of escape beyond a scroll of Planar Shift, sometimes a sorcerer has to bite the bullet and hopefully not the dust.





	Fractions of Time

**Author's Note:**

> This AU bit me very hard. Not Sorry.
> 
> Takes place in some highly nebulous future when Hamid is more dragon-y and he's gone off on some mission by himself.

Hamid is aware of the issues and concerns surrounding planar shifts and teleportation. He is  _ very _ aware of the concerns regarding them happening in the vicinity of Rome. Unfortunately, when he finds himself back against the borders of Rome with no avenue of escape beyond a scroll of Planar Shift, sometimes a sorcerer has to bite the bullet and hopefully not the dust.

* * *

It’s dark when he manages to blink himself aware, a low rumbling filling the air. There’s a clink of metal links, his arms feel heavy, his back stiff. Whatever he’d run across must have taken a massive swipe at him if he’s feeling this terrible. A groan builds in his throat, emerging much louder, more bestial than he’d expected. Even  _ with _ the changes he’s finally accepted that he’ll be having. 

He tries to roll off his side onto his back, screams as something beds in ways that aren’t supposed to, gets tangled up in a  _ tail _ for the love of the gods, and finally stops moving, sprawled on his belly, tail flat, apparent wings caught up in heavy chains and bound to the walls of the pit he’s in, whimpering at the levels of pain as bones refuse to bend in directions and his magic writhes against the harsh divine energy that’s come to characterize any run in with the Cult of Mars.

“Hold still little brother,” a soft voice breaths from beside him, through the bars surrounding his cage. “Just stay still. Goodness you are young.”

Hamid shivers against the magic, trying and failing to draw into himself through virtue of the weight draped across his body. “Who’re you?” His tongue rasps against far sharper teeth that he normally has, but he shoves the gibbering bit of him away.    
“I am Guivres,” the same voice says, “for that is what the Romans called me when they trapped me from the north. Who are you little brother?”

He doesn’t get a chance to respond before an alarm sounds, the rattle of spear and shield comes, prodding Guivres out of her cage dragging her away and to an unknown place before he is left alone in the dark.

* * *

“You are young. It’s like she said.”  Perhaps not completely alone.

Hamid’s eyes snapped to the far side of the space, eyes picking out the black on black of a much larger dragon than himself or Guivres. “I’m sorry?”

They rumbled, the chain netting surrounding them finer than the massive lengths that loop over him, but that’s probably a matter of perspective and how completely massive they are compared to his dragon body. It’s hardly larger than Bertie, which is significantly bigger than his halfling shape, but nothing compared to them.

“I’m not  _ that _ young!” The squeak he could have done without. 

They laughed, scales rubbing against things, the sound filling the room before they stopped moving. “You are the youngest I have seen in ages. We’ve been driven and hunted to nearly nothing. You and Guivres.” 

Hamid swallowed, coughing against the sparks that threatened to spread in his mouth and were smothered by the itchy divine energy. “We? What’s your name?” Another cough as he tried to ignore the itch.

The deepest laugh, deeper than Apophis’ had been when they’d met last. “Bolla is what my family was called. I am the last of my color, the rest of us hunted by the humans and their fanciful adventuring.”

Hamid’s mind raced, putting pieces together in rapid sequence. “So it’s us?”

Bolla’s head bobbed in the direction of the other empty cells. “Us and Guivres, and one other. They refuse to speak, for fear of being hurt. Tell me little brother, what is your name?”

“Apophis.”    
More sparks curl against his tongue, sharp when they can’t do anything but sit and sit and sit. Almost as sharp as the lie that seals his fate.    
“My name is Apophis.”

* * *

Apophis keeps to himself and Guivres and Bolla. The other one hisses and whispers to themselves, driven mad by the darkness and the torment, copper scales greening with age and insanity. He only reached out to them the once and got slammed by a tail for his troubles. 

Bolla had roared at them, leaving Guivres to pull him back closer to their side of the pit, metallic sounds of the chain faded into the background. He shook and ignored them, certain of the reasons why it had been them that he’d not heard of from Oscar Wilde. Some meritocrats they would be.

There’s shouting one day, triumphant, and a fifth dragon is dragged down into the pit, long and slender, a wild mane of fur standing proud around their head, antlers swinging to catch cultists with little effect before they were chained to the wall on Apophis’ other side and left alone hissing after the lights went out again.    
“H-hello?” He shifted as close as his restraints would let him, ignoring how Guivres hissed at him to come back.

_ “Go away!” _ She turned and swung wildly, scaring him back, not intended to actually hit. He stood his ground, not blinking as the antler came back around. “This one does not need your concern!”

He moved that little bit more, the tiniest amount of give he’d worked the restraints into giving him after ages of working them slowly. His nose touched hers, long and slender against a shorter muzzle. “They took your egg?”

She froze, the silver flecking her face catching the brassy sparks that had started to live in Apophis’ eyes. “This one does not know how you know, but yes. I am Shishito. Will you help me?”

He nudged a little closer, pressing muzzles together and nodded.  “Of course. We’ll all leave, and rescue your child.”

* * *

That last day, when the Cult of Zeus have gotten edgy at how complacent they’ve all been, there’s a commotion. Apophis ducked his head down, clawing at the muzzle around his snout and snapped the chain closing it. This is as good of a distraction as any and he lunges at the edge of his chains, straining them beyond all points.   
“Now, go go, let’s go!” He shouted, wings flexing, Bolla standing and roaring as he tried to wriggle free.

There’s a man, not dressed in priestly garb who leans down and messes with the mechanics. The chains around them all drop, a moment of stunned silence before fire is unleashed, Apophis leading the charge up and over the edges, into Nero’s Palace over them so Shishito can claim her pearl and flee with Bolla to the north.

A small, familiar voice calls his name out of the mess of humans. He doesn’t look back, frantic to get out of the pit he’d spent so much time in, out of the palace, out of  _ Rome _ .

* * *

They settle on a mountain somewhere after the destruction of Rome, Shishi and Bolla curled around the egg, Guivres pulling Apophis close and pinning him in place for a good long groom like she’d always threatened. The copper dragon is long gone without telling any of them his name. 

They have time, Apophis wonders to himself. There’s nothing  _ but _ time for them now.


End file.
